I’ve stared at a lot of blank pages lately, wondering if I’m still arrogant enough to ruin another piece of paper with these confessions of obsessions and the self imposed repression of anything that might show you my ego for what it truly is; all encompassing, self pleasuring, and oh so self destructing just so it can play humble and tell the universe “you can be the biggest.” But under my breath I mumble to it “I’ll be the dopest”, with a smirk that’d give any guilty man away; I strut with such swagger while I fan out my feathers and squawk about how I’ve got my shit together, however, the truth is a story of a jig saw boy whose held together by overworked twist ties, THC, the reassurance of friends, and the consistency of cigarettes; I’ve always been on the mend, ever since I could remember I never just let wounds heal unhindered, no matter the pain I’d pick, poke, and prod my way deeper like my bones were treasure, I’ll unearth my regrets and karmic debts I kept just far enough in to hide any evidence of when I went from being innocent to morally indifferent , all the loose ends from days spent tied too tight, spun out like a top not familiar with physics, blacked out and still moving, second guessing myself every hundred minutes or so because I was losing memory like weight , oh those days of perpetual euphoric daze where my ship wrecked eyes kept on the prize of being awake from sunrise to sunrise , those were devastatingly enjoyable moments where I filled notebooks, I got the job done faster, I was witty, I was clever, I never scorched a bubble or got in trouble. If you Tell me something funny, I’ll show you what I got to keep from the era of no sleep, just a crime scene for a smile, everyday behind my caution tape lips I tongue scars and remember to forget before I decide to play dentist with a hammer and some Rx’s, but it can’t be the ampheta-waves that eroded my fundamentals into ambiguous pillars of unwavering self justification, maybe instead of Jesus, I’m just the anti-christ, maybe I started out as one, and ended up the other, maybe it was my fathers insanity, or my mothers constant doting. Was it Philly? Or constantly moving, rated R movies, no it has to be the head injuries, high fevers, and that time my sister choked me….